//------------------------------// // Ways to Achieve Your Wish // Story: Sombra. Saga of Hatred // by HiddenUnderACouch //------------------------------// There were a lot of things to think about that evening several days past the fair. Sombra could have thought about the Emperor, his words and what he had said about equality. He could simply pat himself on the head for being lucky enough to be greeted by the majestic crystal unicorn. The book of dark magic was lying on the top of his pile of books, for he planned to read it as soon as possible; he had even put away 'A Runaway from Fate'. However, there was a more important question he had to resolve, even more important than studying: where could he find enough money to buy tickets for the concert? The concert would be held in winter, in December. Sombra still had a lot of time, but, as the bitter failure of yesterday had proven, his whole life might be in danger because of his illegal affairs. It was supposed to be just another quick job like all others he and Iron Wheel had performed until this one time where everything went awry. *** "Ah, sweet Abyss! Can't I get even a moment of peace?" the elderly stallion groused, throwing back his pale mane back and turning to his friend. "Can't you see I have this kid to take care of?" He engaged in the conversation with his friend while Iron Wheel, the child the gentlecolt was talking about, looked around nervously. He carefully peeked around the stallion's back at the purse that hung on the belt to the stallion’s right and was spooked to see that it was still there. He did everything according to plan: find a victim and lure it into the crowd where Sombra could safely steal the purse without getting noticed. But this guy just had to stop and chat with his friend – and only just a couple of meters from the huge crowd, which was just up ahead. Iron Wheel quickly looked around and tapped the stone pavement with his hooves, hoping to get his victim's attention, but it was fruitless. Iron Wheel started to worry greatly. Sombra wouldn’t be happy if he were to be even a little bit late. This was threatening their entire operation! However, in this situation, Iron Wheel could only sigh heavily and wait till the colt finished his sweet talk. Suddenly, Iron Wheel caught a glimpse of dark color with his peripheral vision. He wanted to turn around and take a closer look, but Sombra quickly dashed past him, almost knocking him down. He was fast, enormously so as he ran past the victim, raising a small cloud of dust. His horn started to glow and his magical aura engulfed the small purse. Sombra certainly knew how to handle his magic, being able to easily focus the magical streams, draw power from them, and manipulate the matter to suit his needs. Iron Wheel had always been a bit scared of magic users. He was a pureblooded crystal pony and thus never had to deal with such things as magical streams and all that mumbo-jumbo. He considered having no horn a gift, to an extent. Magic was the only justification for Sombra's weird behavior lately. The stealing affair, though very useful in financial side of question, but the moral... Iron Wheel had spent at least several nights in his bed, trying to smother his guilt with the pillow — which also dried his tears quite nicely — as the images of ponies in confusion and panic when they noticed their purses missing haunted his young mind. Sombra seemed unaffected by guilt at all, or maybe he was just hiding it masterfully. Iron Wheel speculated these were the effects of magic. The small strap, attaching the purse to the belt, snapped loudly. Sombra quickly dashed away from the victim, trying to get away as fast as possible. "Hey! Thief! Catch him!" the stallion screamed, alerting the crowd. His friend rushed towards the escaping Sombra while Iron Wheel ran as fast as he could away from the scene. He made his way through the back alleys to the safe point where he and Sombra were supposed to meet. However, when Iron Wheel looked around the corner, he saw the stallion's friend towering above Sombra who backed away into the corner. "I've got you now, thief!" the stallion said in a furious voice, preparing to strike the ignorant brat. Sombra pressed his back against a wall and closed his eyes. Iron Wheel gathered up all his courage. There was no other way. From the day he was born, he had been told not to hurt others, he would do this. "AAAAH!" Iron Wheel screamed loudly which startled the stallion. He raised his hooves in preparation to run before he charged the bigger pony. The thug looked at Iron Wheel just in time to see him literally launching himself into his much larger frame. The charging pony felt a little spark of pride in his soul. Just a small one. The impact knocked the stallion down, allowing Sombra to escape. He quickly pushed Iron Wheel away to help him increase the distance between the chaser before he could catch him. They ran away together before the pony could get up. He blurted out a curse, but that was the fullest extent of the threat he posed right now. *** Sombra still remembered the drilling glance that pony had pierced him with. It was an unforgettable experience he wouldn't wish upon anypony. They almost got caught. If Sombra had just waited a little longer, everything would have turned out okay. He had lost patience, thought that he could pull it off on his own, and almost doomed them both in the process. It had been his fault entirely, but Iron Wheel remained silent about it, not saying anything to Sombra. Maybe he was too scared to accuse his friend. In any case, this was a signal for them both to lay low for a while. They couldn't afford getting caught again; they might not be so lucky to escape without consequences next time. He had to find another, safer way to earn enough for the tickets. Sombra finally got off his bed and took a slow walk across his room. He passed the table whereupon his old pictures were still piled up. So funny. He hadn’t even cleaned the table after that dreadful night. When he needed to do homework, he would just slam the textbooks onto the top of the pile and write like this. He didn't even bother to look through them from time to time. Ever since Willemite had died, all pictures just... lost their meaning to him. Sombra stopped for a second and put his left forehoof onto the table, his right one followed soon. With a simple thought, he started moving the pictures. Each one flashed before him for a second or two depending on how long it caught his interest. All of these papers whereover he had poured his hopes and dreams so long were like a sore for his eyes. The wound inside his soul had healed slowly, but sights like this reopened them, just a little, causing a little blood to flow out before it would seal itself again. How long shall I be bothered by these memories? Sombra thought to himself. He was so tired of feeling pain. Through all these years, he got the taste of happiness: Krystal helped him, made him feel more confident, made him forget about his loss just for a little. The nightmares became much less horrific after she 'helped' him at that bridge. Sombra could actually sleep through the nights now. In fact, a lot about Krystal seemed familiar: her voice, her looks, her smile. Some of her traits were very familiar, too; the warmth coming from her, reminded him of home: a real home, not this one. A home, where he would always be welcome, always expected, always wanted. It would be so good to have such a home now. Sombra sighed deeply and found himself a chair to sit upon. He needed to come up with an idea. An idea of earning money in a safe way without risking his life or his neck; the laws were quite harsh for criminals of any age. The money Lux had given him at the fair was quite a hefty sum of money; though it wasn't enough, it would help significantly. He still had to buy food for himself, but if he cut the budget therefor a little bit... He could take a few days without food anyway. He might borrow something from Krystal: a sandwich or two. He should also ask her to help him with lessons. Sombra had gotten in a bit of trouble with math and physics lately. He just couldn't understand them, all these formulas flew out of his head in an instant. Maybe she'd be able to shove all this knowledge into his dumb head. Sombra took a deep breath and took a glance outside through the cracked window. The trees were still gold and red; the Prancing Summer was still in control. But how long was it until the real autumn, how long until the first snow would cover the ground? Nopony knew. All would come in its time, Sombra figured. He just hoped he could earn enough money before this faithful day came. *** "Five hundred and fifty two... five hundred and fifty three—" a rude, hoarse voice reached Sombra's ears as he slowly pushed the door to the bakery ajar. The stale, warm air engulfed the young unicorn and seeped into his lungs. The sudden temperature-change made Sombra cough before he could adapt to the new atmosphere. It was more of a shop than a bakery, really. Muffins and cakes looked pale, completely colorless, and even dusty in some places. Several shelves were broken, with nopony around that seemed picky enough to fix them. The welcome-sign outside depicted a big pony with a round belly, a happy smirk on its face. Quite a stark contrast to what was awaiting the costumers inside. ‘Fröhlich Brot': the only bakery in this entire part of Crystal City where commoners could buy bread. Willemite used to shop here often, sometimes paying extra for fresher loafs. The main reason this shop even existed was that its owner bought his flour not from earth ponies — whose flour was renowned as the best available — but from gryphons. It didn't make much sense for gryphons to compete with earth ponies in terms of agriculture; they always kept it to bare minimum to feed their people and army. The bread was rigid, a bit grey, and far from tasty, but it kept you fed. The bakery was even named in the gryphon language – the owner couldn't have made it more obvious from whom he was buying the flour. Sombra had no grasp on the gryphon language, not even an idea, so he couldn't translate the name. "Yes, welcome to Fröhlich Brot, how may I help you?" the shopkeeper, a middle-aged crystal pony with slender figure and wiry body, grumbled. The hair of his bottle green mane looked hoar at the ends and, adding to that, the black circles under his eyes didn't make him any prettier. He coughed loudly, barely managing to cover his mouth with a handkerchief which had lain nearby. "Oh, a kid? Was zum Teufel are you doing here?" he said when he finally took a look at Sombra. The young colt didn't even understand what he meant, having no knowledge of the language that sounded like harsh gibberish to him, but he mustered the courage to say what he wanted to say. "Hello, sir. I am looking for work," Sombra said and blushed slightly, though, he tried to hide it. He wasn't used to talking to adults, asking for things, or anything for that matter. The shopkeeper raised an eyebrow and carefully moved the gold he was counting away. "Work? Usually parents come hither and ask me to teach their little, blood-sucking parasites a thing or two about life. But a parasite asking for a lesson, that's something new," he spoke derisively, chuckling a bit. Sombra felt offended by the term 'parasite', but paid no attention to it – he needed this job. He kept his cool and looked at the shopkeeper. He chuckled once again and started looking through the drawers of the table he was sitting at. "Where did I put my damn cigarettes... ah, there they are," he grumbled, and slammed a little wooden box onto the table. He opened the box and found himself in trouble getting the cigarettes out of it. "Urgh... eh, boy, a little help here?" he glanced at Sombra. The boy quickly approached and used magic to shove one of the paper tubes into the shopkeeper's mouth, even lighting it with a simple fire control spell. After chewing on it for a bit, the shopkeeper inhaled and spat out several clouds of grey smoke. "Well, can't say I'd be against the offer: assistants are always needed," he drawled with the stub in his mouth, inhaling once again, making Sombra cover his mouth. He didn’t want to breathe in the smoke, it smelled like a dead animal to him. "Yeah, you may consider yourself hired. Monthly wage… Lemme think for a second," he paused to scratch his chin. "Fifty a week if you work every day and only if I am pleased with your effort. That would make three hundred a month." Sombra sighed, blowing away the clouds of smoke that were floating towards him. This was far from ideal: he had to earn much more than this guy offered. But this was the only place close enough to his house and the only one where he had a shot at getting accepted; all others probably wouldn’t. "Alright, I agree," Sombra said. "When do I start?" "Tomorrow. However, there is a certain set of rules you have to follow," the shopkeeper grinned, showcasing his yellow teeth and ashen gingivae. Sombra felt a little uncomfortable when he smiled. "First of all, my name is Mr. Sweet Tooth. That's what my momma called me and that's what you're gonna call me. So, rule number one: you always put Mr. in front of that name. If you call me Sweet, or Tooth, or Sweet Tooth without Mr., I'll smack you." Sombra dropped a quick glance at Tooth's hooves, seeing their rough and jagged surface. It would hurt a lot if he really hit him. "Rule number two: you stay silent. And I mean not a bloody whimper. If I hear a sound from you, you'll be flying across the room faster than you can say 'Oh, shit'," Sweet Tooth continued, puffing out another cloud of smoke, chewing the cigarette along the way. "Rule number three: if you skip any day of your working week, you're not getting paid for that week. Simple as that!" he said conclusively, rolling the cigarette around with his teeth. "Remember these rules, kid, and we'll get along just ausgezeichnet!" Another word from a language Sombra didn't know. He couldn't even guess if it had negative or positive meaning, so he just nodded, worried that this might be his only chance. "Great! You can start working tomorrow. Don’t be late," he said dismissingly and looked to the side at his precious money. "Considering your school, I'll say you should come at 2 PM. The biggest flock of costumers comes in the middle of the day, so this will be an ideal time – for both you and me." Sombra didn't argue, though this left him with little to no time for his other activities. He sighed once again, considering abandoning this idea, but quickly drove these considerations away. In the end, it’d all be worth it. He just had to take a deep breath and prepare for what his new work might throw at him. *** "Some more butter, mayhap?" Krystal offered, looking at Sombra, who just gobbled up another sandwich. "Yes, please!" he replied, his eyes filling with delight as Krystal placed another slice of bread covered in butter before him. She took a good look at him. Sombra had changed since their visit to the coronation day. He’d become much busier, always seemed to be occupied with something and he always seemed to be thinking. Sometimes, he would just stare out of the window at the landscape, which was now covered in a slight veil of white: a sign of a young winter. Sombra started to show signs of exhaustion recently. The skin under his eyes became dark, forming circles thereunder, and his attention span became shorter. He could read something in the book and instantly forget what it’d been about. "Sombra... is something bothering you?" Krystal asked, leaning on the table, looking at the sleepy unicorn. "Well... a lot, actually," Sombra said, putting away the half-eaten sandwich. "You know... I've recently found myself a job." "A job! That's so cool! I'm very happy for you," Krystal responded excitedly. "It's a very important step in your life, you know. Everypony has to learn how to earn something by himself." "Yeah, yeah, I know," Sombra responded rashly, too tired and bored to listen to the tirade Krystal was likely to spill out any moment. "Job’s important and all... but I just can't stand it!" "What do you mean?" Krystal asked, tilting her head in confusion. Sombra licked his dry lips and continued. "It's very difficult. You see, I work at the bakery Fröhlich Brot. It's mostly physical work, like, carry this box there, put that box on that shelf, sort these files," he began, sometimes rubbing his forehead to get rid of the annoying headache. "I can deal with it... but the problem is the school. I spend a lot of time working and I don't have time to study or do homework. This earns me a tongue-lashing from some teachers." He made a short pause to wrap the nearby cup of warm water with magical energy. After drenching his throat, he continued. "I try to study... and then I miss my work. This gets me an unpaid week and—" he rubbed his forehead, whispering a silent 'ouch'. "Oh, I see. You just need to—" Krystal wanted to give advice on better self-organization, but suddenly realized that she had nothing to recommend. She had no knowledge of Sombra's situation, no understanding. She didn't work, she had much more free time than Sombra had; she could study as much as she wanted. She had no right to lecture him. "Nevermind... please, continue." "Well... Krystal, I need a lot of money right now and I can't afford to lose it. Please... couldn’t you help me with my lessons?" Sombra asked and suddenly turned grim. "I feel bad asking you this... but I just... I need you to do homework for me." When he said that, he turned red and turned away. Krystal looked at him with compassion and worry in her eyes. "Sombra... you know that's a very bad thing... but please, tell me, what do you need money for? Mayhap I can help you with that?" she said, reaching him and touching his back. He glanced at her from under his black mane. "I can't tell you right now. It's something very, very important. Just please... refuse already, alright? Stop tormenting me with hope," Sombra pleaded whereto Krystal nodded. He rarely asked her for anything and now he asked her for something so… wrong; it had to be such a blow to his pride. He realized that he just couldn't carry it on his own – he needed help. Funny thing, even after everything that had happened between him and her, Krystal still barely knew him. She only knew what he had told her and vice versa. This was the cause for Krystal's insomnia for at least several times. She just couldn't accept living with half-truths and half the knowledge. She didn't have the courage to tell him everything, however. Maybe, when she was able to understand the funny feeling inside her chest, all the facades would be dropped and they could talk freely. "Don't worry, Sombra. I'll do it for you. If you really think your work is more important than school... I'll help you," At that, Sombra turned to her and smiled. "But if I find out that it is some kind of a stupid prank, I'll kill you!" "Believe me, Krystal, you won't be disappointed," Sombra replied with a smile, reassuring Krystal that he wasn’t deceiving her. "Thank you so much." "Oh, no need to. You did a lot for me already and I'm grateful therefor. Though I never could express that gratitude," Krystal pronounced and bit off a piece of bread. She felt the little spark of guilt in her soul getting smaller. "I still owe you now." "No, you don't. Relax, Sombra, it's alright. I'll do your lessons and you focus on your work. Be wary, though: I'm bad at trigonometry. Can't draw a triangle without calling the sine a cosine." Sombra chuckled, making Krystal smile for a moment. She really hoped his 'important work' was as important as he had told her. From all the talks she heard from her mother, boys his age might get into bad company. Krystal just prayed that this wasn't Sombra's case. He was so different; he wasn’t like the rest. It was like he was growing up by completely different rules, even different from the rules the kids around were followed. He was strange, but that strangeness was his strong side. For some reason, Krystal just wanted to know more, to find out more. Maybe it was her curious nature, or maybe it was something else entirely. *** The big cardboard box sent forth a loud crash when Sombra finally put it down onto the ground. There were at least over six kilos of flour in the damn box carefully strapped with ropes on the top so the contents wouldn't fall out during transportation. It took Sombra at least half an hour to carry this one box into the basement and there were still a dozen left. This was going to be a long day. After taking a short break, Sombra gathered his will and opened the magical streams, channeling energy through his horn. The grey aura engulfed the heavy box and little drops of sweat began running down his muzzle as his struggle to keep control of this much weight went less and less in his favor. He barely managed to shove the box onto the shelf, with just few particles of the flour still managing to seep through its surface. Sombra sighed heavily and leaned on the nearest wall. The mundane job started to get to him. Mr. Sweet Tooth had started to take advantage of Sombra's magic and always made him carry something heavy, clean up the bakery or the office. Sometimes, he demanded that Sombra fetch him documents whenever he asked, always forgetting to tell which documents he needed. Bringing the wrong documents meant punishment for Sombra. Mr. Sweet Tooth opened the old wooden door and entered the room, expressing surprise when he saw Sombra leaning on the wall. "Slacking off, aren't we, mein Lieber?" he said tauntingly. Sombra felt frustration growing in him whenever he heard that tone: he had recently found out that he hated being made fun of. "Apparently so, since I see no reason for these boxes not to be in their places!" Sweet went from taunting to an angry voice. "What am I paying you for? For standing around, not doing Scheiße?" He started slowly circling around Sombra, stopping after a full circle to look him into the eyes. "No, Mr. Sweet Tooth," Sombra replied and quickly received a slap on the forehead. It had turned out that Tooth's hits didn't hurt at all. They were more annoying than painful – Sweet seemed to know how not to injure his little apprentice, but punish him nonetheless. It felt incredibly annoying being slapped around like some little misbehaving kid. Sombra could only thank the gods that it wasn't like his father's monthly beatings, however. He had barely managed to hide the bruises after the last one. "Did you forget? You are not to talk unless I say that you may talk. Did I tell you to talk?" Sweet Tooth asked, leaning closer to Sombra. He wanted to reply 'no', but held back and shook his head instead. "Exactly," Sweet Tooth said snidely and looked at the boxes Sombra had already carried onto the shelves. "I promise: if I see even a tiny scratch, you'll be left with no wage this week." Sombra didn't reply and just looked down silently. He felt frustration rising in him – it wasn't his fault that these things were so heavy. He got tired so quickly, his mane was drenched with sweat and his heart suddenly started to pound like crazy. Red color covered his cheeks, and he started panting heavily, wondering what suddenly made him feel so exhausted. "Ah, would you look at this!" Sweet Tooth mocked, making Sombra shudder from surprise. He spoke a bit too loud after this brief silence. "Just look at this mess!" he said again, swiping a small patch of flour off the surface of the wooden shelf. The white cloud flew into the air and dissolved in several seconds. "Do you know how much money just dissolved into thin air?" "It was just a small patch of flour!" Sombra blurted out, hiding his sight when he suddenly felt that harsh poke into the back of his head. "What did I tell you about talking?" Sweet Tooth questioned and Sombra silently growled. When the dull pain in his nape settled down, he sighed and nodded obediently. "Yes, it seems like you're working for free this week. I cannot tolerate inattention and laziness," the sickly thin pony decreed and slowly made his way back unto his office. When he slammed the door behind him, Sombra let out a growl. "Go to Abyss, you damn idiot!" Sombra shouted at the closed door and bucked the wall behind him to let out some frustration. He got a sudden desire to crush something with his bare hooves, break something, tear it into tiny pieces. He hated the whole world and especially this damn dystrophic who couldn't show even a bit merci to him. What did he do to earn Tooth's hate, anyway? Sombra breathed in and exhaled slowly, trying to relax. Anger boiled in him, urging him to break something, but he held back. He still had to work here after all. He looked at the rest of the remaining boxes and wrapped one of them in his magical aura. Yet another week of working without payment – he started to get used to it. It happened so often, Sombra slowly started to forgot that he was supposed to be paid at all. And time wasn't waiting – the winter was already here. Right now, snow was falling quietly and peacefully onto the ground, forming small piles that would crunch funnily when stomped upon. Time was running out and Sombra wasn't advancing to his goal, he was slogging unto it like a hoofless invalid with his tail strapped to a dragon who tried to fly to the opposite direction. He would never collect enough money for the tickets at this rate. But what could he do? Going back to stealing was no option; Sombra felt it with his gut that they would be caught eventually. He didn't want to risk it anymore; he just had to endure this torment of a job. He felt a sudden weakness in his forehoofs. The magical pressure was too much for the exhausted colt to handle and he fell down onto his rump. The box plummeted down to the wooden floor. It didn't break, thankfully, it just got a few small cracks. "You...damn...piece of… Argh," he sighed. It seemed he wouldn't finish until midnight. *** Finally, the assignment was complete. After the last box was placed on the shelf, Sombra took a deep breath and sat down, relaxing his strained muscles. Even though he didn't move them physically, using magic to move something heavy took a toll on his organism, putting most pressure on muscles, consuming more and more energy the longer he held the box wrapped in his magical aura. Ignoring the rivers of sweat that tried to reach his eyes, Sombra slowly proceeded to leave the storage room and entered the main hall. It was strangely dark and quiet. It seemed Mr. Sweet Tooth forgot to light the lantern. Sombra didn't want to disturb him anymore, however. What if he punished him once again? Working for free yet another week – no, thank you. Sombra carefully tip-hoofed through the dark corridor, moonlight seeping through the windows and cracks in the walls. Specks of dust were visible in the light, creating an atmosphere of soft- and calmness like a sleepy veil, a blanket, covering the entire room. Sombra dared to disturb it and approach the door which led outside. His eyelids were heavy and begging him to shut them. Everything seemed unclear, blurry and the rough wooden floor seemed like the softest bed in the entire world. Sombra couldn't wait to come home and collapse onto his bed, close his eyes and enjoy the trip to the dreamscape. He wrapped the door handle in the magical aura and opened it. His dreams of sleep were crushed by the clicking sound of the lock. The door was closed and a small sheet of paper, which Sombra hadn't noticed before, fell from the doorhandle and onto the floor. Sombra's heart started beating faster as worry filled him. He picked up the paper and casted a simple illumination spell, lighting the room in the soft white light. Dear slacker. I am highly displeased with your less than satisfactory results. You treat your job very recklessly, like you don't even need it. That's not the attitude I want to see as an employer. I am highly disappointed. I am not going to waste my patience on you. If you are so lazy that it took you that long to unload the shipment: enjoy your stay here. I am not going to wait for you to finish. P.S. - Please, clean up before going to sleep. I don't like leaving a mess after work and I just didn't feel like grabbing a mop. Besides, you got that wand on your forehead. It'll be easier for you. Yours truly, Mr. Sweet Tooth Sombra's eyelid started twitching and his throat went completely dry. After finishing reading, not a single word fell from Sombra's lips as he slammed the letter into the ground and started tearing it apart in rage. So many cuss words and just plain growls and grunts were whirling on Sombra's tongue right now, pleading to him to release them, fill the air with noise and screams. He was not going to achieve anything. He wouldn't be able to gather enough money to buy the tickets, nothing would change, and everything would stay the same stupid, damn way. His life was nothing but a bunch of trials with no valid reward in the end. The reward was only more trials! How was he supposed to endure all of this? Teachers, Sweet Tooth, every damn adult said the same thing: you have to work; you have to earn your place in life. But how in the flying Abyss was he supposed to earn it if they kept pushing him away from his goal? Why did these assholes keep bothering him? Why did they hate him so much? Engulfed by blind rage and hatred to the whole world, Sombra gathered his magical power and unleashed it towards the nearby stand. The grey ball of energy reached the wooden obstacle and shattered the glass which protected the display of cupcakes and muffins. The sound of cracking glass reached Sombra's ears and made him back away in horror. What had he done? This was horrible! Sweet Tooth would kill him for this! This was the end! Sombra started walking back and forth, lost, trying to figure out how to act in this situation. It wasn't his fault; it wasn't his fault at all! He had snapped, he couldn't control himself. What was he supposed to do? But the most important question was: what was he supposed to do now? A shard of glass fell from its place and was shattered into small pieces, filling Sombra with even more regret and remorse. This definitely was the end. Sombra sat down on the floor, closed his eyes and put his head on the wooden surface. He felt small splinters prickling his cheek, but this pain was nothing compared to guilt and shame he felt right now. By some reason, the scenes of him stealing, fooling ponies into losing their purses, seeped into his brain and stayed there. He couldn't think of anything else, besides his criminal affairs. How easy had it been, he would just grab and run. Nothing complicated. Right now, he might have just lost his only chance to get those tickets. Suddenly, a small yet strange idea reached Sombra's mind. He raised his head and looked around the shop, noticing every stand and display case, every shelf. Everything that wasn't broken… yet. Sombra knew where Sweet Tooth kept his finances – in a box that was safely locked away under the counter. He probably took the key with him, assuredly, but this was no problem. Sombra's expression changed from despair and sadness to a sadistic cheshire-smile of joy. He was a genius. Why hadn’t he figured it out before? It was so simple: he’d just grab and run! A powerful stream of energy struck the shelf holding some flower pots, snapping it in two. Pots fell onto the ground and shattered; half-dead flowers were now lying on the floor together with patches of back dirt which used to house them. Sombra destroyed the shop slowly. He smashed the displays, squashed the muffins and cupcakes, turning them into a grey mish-mash. He cackled as he cracked several displays, putting all his frustration and anger into bending the wood and watched it crack and break asunder. Anypony who would enter this bakery now would find it in complete ruins. Smiling viciously, Sombra went behind the counter and reached for the box wherein all the money was. He didn't count for how long he had smashed the damn thing against a wall before the lock finally broke. Even though the box was very heavy, Sombra didn't experience any difficulties in lifting it with magic and smashing it open. It was like his anger made him stronger, more durable as though it gave him stamina. When the pleasing crack reached Sombra, he dropped the box on the ground and lifted the cover. Coins flashed in the cold moonlight and Sombra smiled even more. He quickly found a linen bag and emptied the content of the box into it. The money was his now, it was time to hide it. Sombra knew that he would be the first suspect if he just left. He needed to make sure Sweet Tooth thought him an innocent – a lazy, but innocent foal. He smashed the window to smithereens, shards and pieces of the frame falling down onto the ground and into snow. Sombra threw the bag into the formed passage first, then climbed over the windowsill and found himself on the street. The thin layer of snow sparkled in the moonlight, the midnight quietness disturbed by nothing but Sombra's hoofsteps. He reached a big pile of rubbish in the alleyway between the bakery and some other building wherein he hid the bag. The alleyway seemed like it was rarely visited and only used for shortcuts, or to drop off garbage if one was too lazy to carry it all the way to the rubbish dump several blocks away from here. Knowing that the money was safely hidden here, Sombra returned back to the bakery. After climbing through the window, he took a careful look at the shards lying all around him. Now came the difficult part. It would hurt, but it had to be done. Sombra levitated a small shard towards himself and swallowed the saliva that gathered in his mouth. This was difficult, but if he pulled it off, he'd have proven all these idiots wrong. The boy clenched his teeth as he made a moderately sized cut on his wrist, only wounding flesh, avoiding any visible arteries. The blood poured out, sparkling strangely in the moonlight. After suppressing the pain, Sombra took a deep breath and started smearing his mane and head with his own blood. It felt so sticky; his hair quickly stuck together, making him feel uncomfortable. The desire to wash his mane with a lot of soap grew with every passing second. Sombra raised his injured hoof and allowed the blood to drip onto the floor until a small puddle had formed thereon. As much as this idea disgusted him, it was necessary. Sombra laid down on the floor, carefully placing his head in the center of the puddle. The liquid stuck to his cheek and temple, creating an unsettling feeling of wetness, but this was a sacrifice Sombra was ready to make for his and Krystal's good. After making himself a bit more comfortable in the makeshift crime scene, Sombra closed his eyes and managed to drift away to sleep. A hard day awaited him tomorrow, but a joyful one as well. Sweet Tooth was in for one hell of a surprise.